Okay, I'm really sorry it's taken me SO long to update, but I am such a huge procrastinator when it comes to typing things that I've already written out on loose-leaf… but it here now so it's all good.

This chapter is dedicated to my BFFAE, Morgan. You'll get what you want in the next chapter, I promise.

Disclaimer: Okay, you guys should have read enough fanfics to know that authors on this site rarely own their characters. But in case I am your first story, I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING YOU RECOGNIZE! Anything else, like Taylor, Aubury and Jake and the PLOT are mine. Okay, now that that's over with, on with the story!

Find me, Help me, Marry me

Chapter 3

Harry came in first, closely followed by Ginny. "What're you talking about, George?" Ginny asked, yawning.

George sank to his knees. "Hermione- she's… she's gone."

The rest of the Weasleys piled in, taking in a pale, shocked George; a trunk less, spotless room; then finally, to the note in George's hand. Bill pulled it out of his brother's clutches. "Hermione sends her love."

"Hermione would put that at the end of her letter." Ginny piped up, exasperated. "What else does she say?"

"Cripes," Bill mumbled to himself after actually reading the words on the parchment. "Basically, she needs time." He looked up. The occupants of the Burrow were glaring at George as if it was his fault that their beloved Hermione ran away. Beginning to push his mother towards the door, Bill announced, "Okay everybody, that's enough. I'm sure George is in enough pain without you lot glaring daggers at him." When everyone had gone to their rooms, Bill clapped a hand on George's shoulder and gave him a brotherly hug. "I'm sorry mate, but she'll be back," he said reassuringly. Bill left because he knew, no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to help his brother come to terms.

George didn't notice; he had been oblivious to everything after he answered Ginny's question. Battling with an internal emotional breakdown, he climbed onto Hermione's old bed, whispering her name over and over again until he succumbed to sleep.

………….

Chewing her thumbnail, Hermione looked around. Where to now? She glanced at her muggle watch. August 31st. Where could she go on the last day of holidays?

"C'mon Dad," a voice carried over to her, "The Hogwarts Express is leaving in 10 minutes! We're going to be late!"

Of course! She could be a teacher at Hogwarts! Maybe a caretaker… or something. She had always been told that she was the brightest witch of her age, why not apply it? She scribbled a note to Dumbledore explaining her situation. It was after she had signed it that she realised that she had no way of getting it to the headmaster.

"Mother, come on! The muggles are staring at my owl."

Hermione turned around and saw a young girl, probably a third year, giving her owl a treat. Making a split second decision, Hermione walked up to the girl. Her frame was petit with dirty blond hair and large green eyes set in a heart-shaped face. Hermione first extended her hand to the mother, who shook it warily, then to the student. "Hi, my name is Hermione Granger and-"

"Wait," the mother said in awe. "Are you the same Hermione Granger who helped defeat You-Know-Who?"

"Um, yes."

"Miss, we really want to thank you. Finally, we can live without fear over our heads. If there is anything we can do for you, please, don't hesitate to ask."

"Well," Hermione bit her lip. She didn't want use her fame to call in favours. "Can I borrow you owl? I just need to send this message to Professor Dumbledore…" she trailed off, waving her paper slowly to dry the ink.

"Of course!" the little girl chimed, already opening cage. "Her name is Rose, Miss Granger."

Hermione tied the note to the owl's leg. Gently, she set it free and it flew away.. "Please, call me Hermione. What's your name?"

"Taylor, Hermione."

"Well Taylor, the train is going to leave in five minutes. What say you and me go through the barrier?"

Taylor nodded eagerly and after hugging her mother goodbye, she wheeled her cart through the barrier, Hermione close on her heels.

She took in the archway, the sign saying Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock, the animals, the people and finally the scarlet steam engine with its billowing smoke. It had been nearly eight years since she had seen that train. It was where she had first met Ron, Harry… George. "Oh George…," she whispered.

Taylor grabbed her arm. "Come on Hermione! The train's going to leave in a minute! You can sit with my friends and me." The 22 year old Levitated her trunks and bewitched them to follow her as she was dragged to the last compartment.

"Taylor!" two boys yelled upon seeing them enter the compartment. One had blond hair with pale blue eyes, a total surfer dude. The other was a dark brunet, an athlete with hazel eyes.

"Hi guys!" Taylor yelled, still dragging Hermione. The boys' smiles faded as Hermione stepped into the enclosed space. She could tell what they were thinking. Who is this woman and how dare she come into this group? She would have been thinking the same thing had she been in their place.

"Guys," Taylor enunciated carefully, "This is Hermione Granger. Hermione, these are my best friends. The blond is Jake and brunet, Aubury.

The boys' eyes widened. "Hermione Granger?" Aubury said slowly. "The one who is friends with Harry Potter?"

Hermione nodded.

The two kids kneeled down, pressed their heads to the floor and fanned her with their hands. "We worship you," Jake said, "Oh Gracious Lady."

"Honestly!" Taylor cried. "One might think she was the queen of the world!"

"But she is!" Aubury protested while standing up. He took Hermione's hand. "Miss Granger, I am in love with you. Would you do me the honour of being my wife?" Hermione's eyes widened as she smothered a giggle.

"What he said." Jake elbowed his friend out of the way and replaced his position.

Hermione smiled softly. "I'm sorry boys, but someone else has already captured my heart."

Jake let go of her hand while Taylor grinned, "Who is it? Who is it?"

"Well, if you let me sit down, maybe I'll tell you." Aubury and Jake dragged Hermione's trunks in, acting rather surly. "What house are you guys in?" Hermione asked, sitting across from Aubury.

"Gryffindor," they all chirped.

Pumping a fist in the air, Hermione said, "Go! Go Gryffindor."

Aubury and Jake laughed. Anybody who had that much enthusiasm for their house was alright in their books.

"So tell us," Taylor urged, "What's your story?"

Hermione was a little uncomfortable with the fact that she was about to tell some complete strangers her sob story, but she needed to get it off of her chest and maybe she needed advice. Even if it was from three thirteen year olds.

She launched into her story from when she first received her letter to when she met Taylor, sparing all the boring details. She had stuttered and stumbled through her part with George. A few tears leaked out of her eyes when she recounted how she left. Taylor slipped a comforting arm around her waist and Hermione wiped her cheeks.

"I don't understand why you left," Aubury said, after a moment of silence.

"I don't want him to get hurt."

"It seems to me," Jake said slowly, "That he loved you even before he asked you out and that he wanted to marry you way before he asked. I don't think he wants to hurt you."

"I don't think so either but understand: I might hurt myself and think it was him. That would break his heart."

Aubury glanced up solemnly. "But you've already broken it."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably at the truth thrown right in her face and glanced at her watch. "There's an hour till we reach Hogwarts. Are you guys going to change soon?"

Jake laughed. "Change? We don't have uniforms anymore. Something about being more muggle. As if anyone could think that Hogwarts was a muggle school with Exploding Snap, Care of Magical Creatures and Quidditch."

Hermione laughed, it was true. "So then why don't you tell me about yourselves and your families?"

Aubury smiled. "I'm a muggle-born. I got my letter at breakfast. My mother, who was at the stove, was happy but my dad fainted into his eggs."

Jake was half and half, Wizarding coming from his dad's side. Apparently, his dad hadn't gone to any Wizarding school so they hadn't known Jake was a wizard. Taylor reminded Hermione of Ron with four sisters and one older brother. The sisters were all going to Hogwarts, ranging from third to seventh year.

The flickering light signalled that five minutes were left until they arrived at Hogwarts. Hermione began to get worried. What was she supposed to do once she got to Hogwarts? Become a caretaker? Oh Hermione, she scolded herself. When did you become so impulsive? When I met George, she answered herself. She was about to gather up her trunk when she remembered that someone would take care of it for her.

She and Taylor strutted off the train with Aubury and Jake slouching in a guy way behind them. Hermione's head turned when she heard a familiar voice call, "First years this way! C'mon!"

"Hagrid!" she yelled, purely out of habit.

"Hermione?" he bellowed over the sea of students? "What are you doing here?" he asked before she was swept away by the surging crowd.

I honestly don't know.

The four friends got into the Thestral pulled carriage. Aubury, Jake and Taylor chatted animatedly while Hermione sat back, comfortable in her own silence.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said the moment Hermione stepped into the Entrance Hall. "The Headmaster wishes to see you."

Muttering a 'see you later' to Taylor, Hermione followed the Deputy Headmistress to the Phoenix statue.

"Chocolate Frogs," the Transfiguration teacher said to the giant marble bird. The Phoenix spun to reveal a staircase which Hermione jumped on. It lifted her up and stopped. She knocked on the wooden door.

"Come in," a male voice called.

Hermione slowly opened the door to see Albus Dumbledore, sitting behind his desk, his hands folded neatly on top of a stack of parchment. "Miss Granger," he said before she could greet him, "Would you like to be a Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher?"